


The Boy Who Waited

by teenuviel1227



Series: All of Time & Space [2]
Category: Day6 (Band)
Genre: Companion!Brian, Day6 Ship Weeks, Doctor!Jae, Dr.Who-inspired, Implied DoPil endgame, JaehyungparkianWeek2018, M/M, side!BriWoon, timetravel!AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-03-04
Packaged: 2019-03-26 23:23:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13868178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teenuviel1227/pseuds/teenuviel1227
Summary: Jae is a Time Lord whose time machine crashes into the backyard of one Brian Kang, a little boy who’s just moved to Canada and is terrified of a crack in his wall. They spend a lifetime and more following each other’s timelines, coming to one pivotal point at which Brian must make a decision that will change both of them forever.





	1. The Man In The Box

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, everyone! This is for Day1 of Jaehyungparkian Week, the theme of which is Time Travel. :D
> 
> And yes, this is based off of the Doctor Who episodes The Eleventh Hour and The Beast Below because as far as chemistry goes, I think Eleven and Amy were the best. No, you don’t need to have watched either to get what happens. :) Also, as I know people will be wondering: no, this is not how the original episodes end. And yeah, this is mostly based off of Matt Smith’s Doctor but I wanted to pay homage to Eccleston, Tennant, and Capaldi too so I mixed a bit of their Doctors in there too. 
> 
> If you guys have no idea what I’m talking about, I’m hosting a [fan art/fan fic fest over here](https://twitter.com/day6sailing/status/968701090828046337) along with a bunch of awesome people and this week is Jaehyungparkian week. Come join the fun! 
> 
>  
> 
> [Twitter](http://twitter.com/teenuviel1227)  
> [Blog](http://teenuviel1227.wordpress.com)  
> [Tumblr](http://teenuviel1227.tumblr.com)  
> [Curious Cat](http://curiouscat.me/teenuviel1227)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a young Brian Kang mistakes a crashing time machine for a shooting star--and kind of gets what he wishes for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Twitter](http://twitter.com/teenuviel1227)   
>  [Blog](http://teenuviel1227.wordpress.com)   
>  [Tumblr](http://teenuviel1227.tumblr.com)   
>  [Curious Cat](http://curiouscat.me/teenuviel1227)

It’s a hot mess: usually, Jae is an excellent navigator, whether through time or space or both. Usually, he’d even call himself a kind of military-grade pilot, a captain of his own destiny, a steerer of his fate--or at the very least, his ship. But tonight isn’t one of those nights. Maybe if he’d paid attention to what his Time Engineer, Sungjin, had said before he left Titan, Saturn Orbit in 1950 for Toronto, Canada, Earth in 2003, then things would’ve gone well. 

_ Your engine is going to overheat if you take her beyond 20 years in this state--you’ve got to fix the chrono-carburetor.  _

But see, Jae’s something of a smart aleck, something of a genius (well, most of the time), has spent most of his Time Lord life helping people of all origins and predispositions out--you don’t survive a Time War and think that one rusty chrono-carburetor is going to keep you from where you’re going. So he’d rolled his eyes at Sungjin, let him know that in a couple of years he’d be getting a new roof for his shop--one that would withstand the humidity on that goddamn moon--and that no, he doesn’t go bald like his dad, and gone on his way. (Sungjin hates spoilers.)

Tonight, Jae’s got one agenda on the mind: to have fun. He’s off to Toronto, Canada, Earth, Milky Way in 2003. 

2003--yes, one of Jae’s favorite years, what with the cheesy music (his ultimate favorite being J.Lo and LL CoolJ’s  _ All I Have _ ) and Nintendo releasing the Game Boy Advance SP and the birth of Simcity 4. In particular, he wants to go to an oldie but goodie: The Rolling Stones, AC/DC, Rush, and The Guess Who headlining a benefit concert in Toronto for the onset of the SARS epidemic. It’s a concert he’s seen various times, at various points in his timeline--he’s sure there’s  _ some  _ earlier version of him floating around the venue and just hopes that he won’t run into himself. 

That’s always kinda awkward.

It’s the largest singular audience in Canadian history (which he finds fascinating, as he’d spent most of his time on Earth across the border in California where people always seemed to be standing in groups with glow sticks for no apparent reason) and he thought he’d treat himself after the run-in he’d just had in 2078, saving one of the Athenian civilizations on the outer edge of the Apollo belt, Solaris Galaxy, from the clutches of the cybermen. 

Time for some rest and relaxation: a mosh pit, the farthest that one can get from the cold, hard, steel of those goddamn cyborgs always threatening to encase everyone in steel and do away with their emotions.Yeah, music pulsing, with the electric guitars resounding bright and slick whilst he thrashes against sweaty bodies with hearts racing as the music makes them think of their entire existence--love, longing, hurt, joy, euphoria, all of it--sounds very, very good to him right now. 

Except right now what he’s actually doing is hanging on for dear life, trying to cool the chrono-carburetor with some liquid obsidian from Pluto as his time machine (or TARDIS or the #TimeAndRelativeDimensioninSpace, as Jae likes to call it)--guised as a blue police box--opens its doors in an effort to let off steam before it whirls itself upside-down and starts to plummet to the earth.

“YO. Yo, wifey!” Jae yells at the ship. “I get you’re mad at me right now. But don’t kill anyone, okay? You can’t just go landing us wherever you want--” 

As if in reply, the ship gives a another shudder, lights flickering, and starts to spin. Jae trips on a wire and nearly flies out the open door, his hand catching the edge of the doorframe just in time. 

“--well if you hadn’t used the hyperbeam when we were out in Solaris when we didn’t need to--” 

Another shudder, another bout of billowing steam.

Jae coughs. “--yeah, yeah okay, I’ll splurge and upgrade the damn chrono-carburetor--” 

The machine slows as if hearing him, but descends nonetheless.

Jae pushes his glasses up his nose as he dangles out of the open door of the TARDIS, holding on for dear life. He looks down: suburban Toronto, a map of big, red-and-blue roofs like a quilt best thrown across oneself on cold, wintry nights. A breeze that’s warm for this part of the world blows against his face, his oversized coat flapping around him, his bowtie askew. 

He grins despite himself as they drift toward a large, empty yard with a swing set on which sits a boy with dark hair and chubby cheeks, absentmindedly rocking back-and-forth. 

_ At least we managed not to land  _ **_on_ ** _ the kid. Jae, you master pilot, you.  _

  
  


Brian hates Canada. In all his ten years of life, he’d never really, truly  _ hated _ anything until they’d moved here. Back home, he’d thought of Toronto as some sort of dream place where it was always snowing but somehow warm, where there was enough chocolate to eat all the time without getting cavities--a place where there were a shitton of action figures for him to play with and all of the comic books and fantasy novels that his heart desired which he could somehow read without giving up on school--which, in this fantasy world, he also excelled at a hundred percent. Also, in this private fantasy of his, he had lots of friends with whom he’d go and play adventure games like pretend-Jumanji and Red Rover. From the way that his aunts and uncles kept saying  _ you’re so lucky, Younghyun-ah,  _ he’d expected some kind of grand adventure, like Peter Pan on crack where they actually get to stay in Neverland without hurting their parents’ feelings.

What they didn’t tell him was that Canada was going to be super lonely. Sure, there were delicious donuts, sure all of the food was in  **_way_ ** bigger portions than back home, but what was all of that food with no one to share it with really? Here, none of the kids speak the same language as him--or make fun of him when he tries to speak theirs’ even if in his opinion, he does it perfectly. 

Here, everyone is taller than him or bigger than him or trying to call him stupid even if he gets an A+ in almost all his subjects without even trying. Here, people don’t understand why he’s called Brian Kang but his class record reads Kang Younghyun. Here, Appa’s job requires him to live away from home at the plant because engineers needed to be  _ on-call  _ which Brian understands as being some kind of slave who always had to say  _ yes, yes, I understand _ , even if you’re eating with your family, after which you get in a car and go wherever they tell you to. Here, Eomma has two jobs: one where she has to live at her patients’ homes to help them out once a week while  _ their  _ families are away and another at the nearby retirement home to take care of another set of patients. At the retirement home, she has the nightshift, leaving at 11:00 PM when she thinks Brian’s gone to bed and sneaking back in at 9:00 AM when she thinks he hasn’t woken up yet. 

Either way, Brian is alone most nights. Either way, the house they live in is big and empty. Sure, it wasn’t too bad at first: Brian’s an adventurous kid, likes to play, isn’t particularly scared of being on his own. He enjoyed the cartoons and playing pretend-pirates with his action figurines by pulling out all of his parents’ luggage, tying them together with yarn and sticking makeshift-sails in them with his dad’s billiards stick and his mom’s scarves before tying a bandana over one eye and yelling AHOY, MATEYS! at the top of his lungs as he rode the entire armada of suitcase-ships down the stairs. He enjoyed eating all of the cake in the fridge until he felt sick, enjoyed being able to fall asleep on the couch after watching One Piece re-runs (both in English and Korean) until his eyes couldn’t stay open anymore. He enjoyed pretending he was a grown up and putting on his dad’s suits, ties that he’d left in the closet for when he was home on the weekends--Brian had fun until he’d first heard it: the sound coming from the strange crack in his wall. 

It’s a low, constant thrumming with a higher whinnying playing above it: like Appa’s car revving up during the winter crossed with a referee’s shrill whistle or the sound the plane made before it took off and left Incheon a little over a year ago, all with the insistence of someone coughing up a hunk of phlegm the consistency of a bullet. It scares him to death--because despite the fact that when he peeks into the crack, it’s just the same, gray concrete that the rest of the cracks in the paint all over the house reveal, putting his hand up against the it is a whole other story: he feels a rush of cold  _ air _ , like there’s something on the other side. 

Something out to get him, something trying to reach out. 

Tonight, Brian is sitting on the swingset with his dad’s oversized navy-blue blazer over his flannel pajamas and his mom’s brass fox brooch (he thinks it looks like pilfered treasure which he likes) pinned to the lapel. He’s wearing the doc martens that he’d gotten as a reward for winning Best In Math during the previous semester: a shiny, cherry red pair with the laces done up into a big, loose loops. His red pirates’ bandana hangs loosely around his neck. His dark hair is a mess, wind-blown and poofed up around his face. He’d been about to push the YOUNG K CRUSADER down the stairs (in his mind he was riding rapids which were key for him to thwart his enemies) when he’d heard it again--that sound from the crack in his wall except louder this time, clearer, unmistakably  _ there  _ even through the door which he’d shut tight. At that, he’d grabbed the nearest loose suitcase--a small, beat-up navy thing--and run down the stairs at top speed. 

Tonight, Brian’s decided to run away. 

Now only if he knew how. 

_ Please,  _ he’s thinking as he sits, crestfallen on the swing set, absentmindedly rocking himself back and forth, letting his feet drag along the dirt under him.  _ Please if anyone’s out there. Just send anyone to help me. Doesn’t have to even be god or an angel or anyone crazy like that. Maybe just like, a policeman or a contractor to go and check what’s up with the crack in my wall.  _

And that’s when he sees it. 

His very first shooting star: it’s bluer than he’d thought but nonetheless bright in the night sky and plummeting across the horizon for sure.  _ Please help me get rid of this crack in my wall. Please let us go back home to Ilsan. Please please please please please get me the hell away from Toronto.  _ He gasps a bit as he realizes that the shooting star--a bit more box-like than in the pictures, he notes--is falling  _ toward _ him, his yard. He makes to jump off the swing when the shooting  _ thing _ starts to slow, not so much crashing into as being dropped like a hot potato onto his yard. 

Brian blinks, sits awestruck for a moment before realizing that this isn’t a shooting star at all but a blue police box, like the ones that they’d seen in the 1950s museum. It’s lying bottom-side-up, door facing the sky. The lights are out inside but the door is open, steam sifting up from it like a frying pan under water. It smells of hot, wet earth and burnt grass. 

Brian lets out a little  _ yelp _ as a man hoists himself up onto the ledge of the ship’s doorway. He’s tall and handsome but ragged, friendly but also kind of frantic, out of breath, panic sitting odd on his gentle face. Sitting on his nose are a pair of gold, round spectacles--a little old-fashioned, Brian thinks--and around his neck is a crooked bowtie. His coat is oversized, hangs around his lanky frame like a flag waving in the wind.  _ Or a pirate ship’s sail _ . His hair is matted to his forehead with sweat and he runs a hand through it, brushing it up and off his forehead.

He smiles. “Hi.”

Brian’s heart gives a little  _ whoop  _ of excitement. 

_ The police. My prayers have been answered.  _

  
  


“Are we in 2003?” The man’s voice is smooth, a little hoarse, but kind, gentle-sounding for all its breathlessness. He glances around, gives Brian a once-over as if looking for clues.

Brian frowns, sighing before standing up and going to inspect the man as well. He certainly didn’t  _ dress _ like a policeman.

“What kind of policeman doesn’t know what year it is? They weren’t kidding when they said that our police system is going to the dogs.”

The man laughs. “You’re what, like, nine? What would you know about the police system, kid?”

Brian straightens up, offended at being treated, well, like a ten-year old. He tries to stand his tallest, stuffs his hands in the pockets of his father’s coat. 

“I’m  _ ten.  _ And as a matter of fact, the paper is delivered at eight sharp everyday and I go out and read it before heading back into bed and pretending to sleep again for when Eomma gets home at nine.” 

The man raises an eyebrow, blinking furiously before he replies. “Alright, then, smarty pants--you win. So what’s the date?” 

“July 30th 2003. Are you Korean?”

The man grins, responds in oddly accented Korean. “Sort of. No guarantee that’ll be what comes next but yeah, so far I’ve been regenerated Korean. Maybe it’s a genetics thing. My mother was human, but I’m mostly Time Lord.” 

Brian tilts his head inquisitively, not wanting to give away just how good it sounds to hear his mother tongue again. “What does that mean?”

The man grins. “You didn’t read anything about immigration in that newspaper of yours?”

Brian is oddly charmed, smiles a little despite himself. “I guess they sent a Korean policeman because they saw our last names, huh. That was considerate. Okay. Well, you can just come and follow me, officer.”

“I’m not a policeman,” the man says, straightening up his bow tie. “I’m...closer to a Doctor, really. I help people, fix things.” 

“Look,” Brian says pointedly, already making for the door. “I don’t care what you are, just do something about the crack in my wall.” 

“Sure. But. Feed me first,” the man says, letting out a tired sigh. “Please. Yer boi is starving.”

Brian frowns. He’d been  _ saving  _ that last slice of chocolate cake. He raises an eyebrow. “I can’t let strangers into my house. Especially if you’re not a policeman and you’re just going to come and eat my cake. Appa bought that for me because I got into the advanced math program.” 

The man grins. “It doesn’t have to be the cake. I’ll be happy with some toast. Maybe a glass of water. Also, sorry. That was rude of me. Jae Park, at your service.”

He smooths his hair back, straightens his tie, offers Brian his hand to shake.

_ A real handshake. Like a grown up.  _ Brian swallows, nervous suddenly. His Appa had always taught him that handshakes mattered, that it made all the difference when making a first impression. He takes a deep breath before taking the man’s hand and shaking it as firmly as he can manage, his chubby hand small in the man’s much bigger one.

“Brian Kang, Pirate King. This way please.” 

  
  


Brian ends up giving Jae the cake anyway--along with a cup of coffee that’s mostly coffee residue and milk and sugar (Brian doesn’t know how to make coffee, brews it like he does hot chocolate, mixing the grounds in with the water; Jae sifts it out using small sieve). Brian can’t help it: he likes Jae. He’s cool, Brian decides. Something about the way he talks, the way he holds himself, the way he seems to give zero shits whilst also seeming to care a whole lot--about everything. 

He talks about everything: the solar systems, ocean life, victorian literature, trigonometry--Brian’s just glad to be there.

They sit in the kitchen, the cake and coffee in front of Jae, the last of the chocolate chip cookies on a plate in front of Brian, already half-eaten. Brian watches in admiration as Jae scarfs down the cake, gulps down the coffee, all while talking about things that seem so grown up and incredible. Brian tries to take it all in, to commit the entire experience to memory.

He takes note of the way that Jae keeps saying stuff really fast. Instead of  _ let’s get it,  _ he mixes all the syllables together:  _ letsgeddit _ . Instead of saying  _ you feel me _ , he says  _ ya feel _ ? Brian himself has just been working on his pirate speak and he hasn’t got the syntax down  _ quite  _ yet so he thinks that this is actual linguistic genius. Also, Jae seems like he’s travelled to a lot of places: he says something about the belt of something in the something system which sounds to Brian like he’s successful or at least does something exciting. Plus, there’s the whole flying police box thing.

And of course, the thing that Brian likes the most about him: he listens. 

Brian likes the way that Jae meets his eye, the way that he nods silently as Brian talks, pausing before he replies as if everything Brian says makes perfect sense. 

“So it seems to me like you’re kind of divided at the moment. Like you love books and comics and films and songs and stuff  _ but _ you’re also good at math and science and you aren’t sure what you want to be, exactly.”   


Brian nods, eyebrows furrowed. “They keep saying I should just choose  _ one.  _ Appa says I should become an engineer ‘cause he’s one and he got us this opportunity. Eomma says I should become a doctor because her boss is a doctor.” 

“Well,” Jae says, pausing to think about it. “Good news is you’re already a grinder.”

“What’s that?”

“Someone who well, grinds. Someone who’s working it, getting elbows-deep.” 

“You mean doing my homework?

“Yeah, something like that.” Jae smiles. “So. Well. What is it you  _ want  _  to be?”

“I don’t think it’d work.”

“Doesn’t matter. Tell me anyway. What is it?”

“A librarian.”

An amused smile plays on Jae’s lips. “Why a librarian?”

“You’d basically know everything,” Brian says. “You’d have access to all of those books and magazines and comics and stories and music, not to mention documentaries and archived films  _ for free.  _ No, actually, they’d  _ pay  _ you to be surrounded by all of that stuff.”

“That sounds wonderful.” Jae smiles fondly before licking the last of the chocolate frosting off his fork. “And why wouldn’t it work?” 

“Well,” Brian says. “It doesn’t make a lot of money. No one says librarians are successful. No one I’ve met anyway. None of my aunts or uncles are librarians.”

“Let me tell you something, Brian Kang, Pirate King. Do you anything about real names?” 

Brian shakes his head, eyes wide.  _ Why does everything he say sound so cool? _

“Okay, my dude,” Jae says. “I’m going to tell you like, one of  _ the  _ secrets of the universe that you have to swear you’ll carry with you until you get older.”

“Cross my heart, hope to die.” 

“Money isn’t all that it’s chalked up to be. I’ve lived like, what, eleven lifetimes now? That’s like, a lot of years plus the ones I’ve gone to not directly  _ within _ my timestream. And in all of those centuries I’ve travelled through, every world that I’ve seen, the first thing to go when civilizations fall is always money. It’s a value system which is constantly in flux,” Jae says. 

“Like imaginary numbers?” Brian asks, repeating a term he’d heard his math teacher use when he took a call during class once.

Jae nods. “Exactly. They affect things, sure. And they’re important as concepts but a lot of the times it might be tempting to think that it’s more important than  _ actual _ value. Money is always just a reflection of something else: how greedy people are or maybe how giving they are, how forward-thinking, how compassionate. So if you’re going to become an engineer, do it because you want to build places for people to live their lives in. If you’re going to become a doctor, don’t do it because you want to make a fortune, do it because you want to help people survive. Look at what the nature of the profession is. Ya feel me?”

Brian nods slowly, wide-eyed. He tries to keep his cool, tries not to think about how handsome he finds Jae.  _ He’s too old for me anyway. _ “I feel ya. So. What’s this got to do with real names?” 

“You’re familiar with absolute values, of course, math genius?”

“Well, duh.”

Jae laughs. “Okay, well, everyone has a real name and it works kind of like an absolute value. Only you know your real name and knowing that gives you power. It gives you the power to assign or reassign direction to your magnitude. Are you going to do things in the name of curiosity and wonder, knowledge and love, passion and kindness? Or are you going to do them in the name of greed and money, tyranny and thirst for power? It’s important to know your name and the name of your profession. Which is why Time Lords usually assume the names of our professions. Yes, I am Jae Park, but also The Doctor.”

“So,” Brian says, dropping his voice to a whisper. “Your true name is Jae Park? Why did you tell me it? Does that mean I have power--”

“--well that’s not my  _ real name  _ real name.” Jae grins mischievously.

“You’re not making any sense.” 

“Is Brian Kang  _ your  _ real name?”

“Ahhh, I see,” Brian says, smiling with understanding, finally realizing what Jae is getting at. Suddenly, he doesn’t mind having a name he’s teased for at school, doesn’t mind having one name following the other like a shadow. It’s a disguise, Brian thinks.  _ Kang Younghyun has power. You are Kang Younghyun.  _

“So,” Jae says, setting down his fork and downing his last swig of coffee. “Let’s get it and see about that crack in your wall.” 

_ Lesgeddit _ , Brian practices in his mind.  _ Lezgedit? _

  
  


From the onset, Jae knows exactly what it is that he’s looking at. He can smell it in the air, the sands of time leaking in through the fissure, the dust everywhere. A rift in time and space, something happening where it shouldn’t or a decision not being made properly, splitting this world into another parallel possibility but not quite being able to do it: resistance, somewhere. Reluctance, somewhere. Something that needs to be set right, somewhere. 

“Is it bad?” Brian asks, biting on his fingernails. 

“Maybe,” Jae says, pulling out his sonic screwdriver. “I’m not sure, yet.” 

“Is that a magic wand?” Brian’s voice is full of wonder. 

Jae laughs, ruffles Brian’s hair. “I wish it was, BriBri. But it’s just a sonic screwdriver. Basically, helps me diagnose things.” 

Jae glances down at the reading on the meter--too much time leaking out too quickly. Jae frowns.  _ But why here? Why now?  _

“We’ve got to close this up, but I’ll need your help. See, behind this wall, there is another time, another place, another plane of reality where someone is making a powerful decision or refusing to or trying to and failing. It’s literally pulling the world apart. And for some reason, they’ve decided to create this rift in your bedroom. So while I seal, I need you to whisper into the wall.”

“Like...get near it?” Brian asks, voice full of panic, thinking of that nauseated feeling he’d gotten when he’d put his fingertips to the peeling paint, the too-cold air fluttering beneath it without disturbing a single speck of dust. 

“Yeah,” Jae says, nodding. “I know you’re scared, BriBri. But you’ve gotta be brave if we’re going to shut this thing, alright?”

Jae turns to Brian, reaching down to fix the collar on his coat. He undoes Brian’s bandana and re-ties it so that it’s cover one eye pirate-style. Jae dusts off the shoulders of Brian’s coat. “Think you can be brave for me, Pirate King Brian Kang?”

“Aye, aye.” Brian nods and takes a deep breath, moves a little closer. “What should I say?”

Jae points the sonic screwdriver at the crack. “Tell them to make up their mind. Tell them whatever they choose, choose well and it’s going to be alright.” 

Brian glances nervously at Jae. “We’re not sending someone into the light, are we?”

Jae chuckles. “No, this isn’t a ghost story.” 

“Okay,” Brian says, squaring his shoulders. “I’m ready.” 

With that, Jae hits a blue button on his screwdriver and the entire fissure becomes visible underneath the paint: it’s bigger than Brian imagined, a wide, golden wound in time and space. It spans the length of the entire wall, bright and gaping like a mouth upturned into a cruel smile. A cold gust blows in from it, stinging their eyes and making them turn away for a moment. Jae hits a red button on his sonic screwdriver before reaching out with his free hand to help pad the time down, reaching down to that part of him that is inherently Time Lord: that instinct for setting things in order--each thing to its own time, its own place. 

“Go on, Bri. Talk to them.”

“Hey,” Brian starts. “Um. This is Pirate King Brian. And I know you’re having a hard time right now. You’re trying to make a decision and I get how that can be difficult. Like tonight, I wasn’t sure if I was going to eat cake or not and because of that I left the fridge open and the cake was getting all melty and sweaty and gross. But in the end, I decided to make up my mind and not eat it and so I shut the fridge and it all worked out because this guy here dropped out of the sky and that way I had something to give him.” 

Jae grins as he feels the gap in time start to heal, to close. “Keep on going, BriBri. You tell ‘em.” 

“So yeah. Just make up your mind. Whatever happens, whatever choice you make, it’s better than not-making it like this. You just need to make sure you can deal with the outcome.”

The glow is almost gone, Jae sweating now as he pushes down on time, tying it all together in his mind: the time to the place to the people, the wind to the dust to the water in the air to the earth in this plane. He hits the green button and runs his other hand along the crack, his eyes shut, brows furrowed from exertion as he pushes down, sets the cracks back in place. With a final heave, the entire thing shuts, the gust of wind dropping the evening back down around them. 

Jae collapses onto the floor. 

Brian gasps, runs forward to help him. “Are you  okay?” 

Jae nods. “Yeah. I just got a bit dizzy. Holy crap. What was  _ with  _ that crack?”

Brian shrugs. “Yeah, I felt it too.” 

Jae sits up slowly. He sighs, grinning at Brian. “So. There you go. No more crack in the wall.” 

“No more crack in the wall,” Brian says, a little sadly. “So you’re going to go now?”

Jae frowns, taking in Brian’s dismal expression--it doesn’t sit well, he has the kind of face that’s built for smiling: kind eyes, fluffy cheeks, scrunchy nose, smile lines. “Well. I  _ do  _ travel through time. You wanna go on an adventure? 

Brian’s eyes light up, a huge smile spreads across his face. “Hell yeah!”

“Right,” Jae says--and then his gaze lands on the TARDIS lying outside.  _ Fuck. Totally forgot about that.  _ “Okay. I have to go and get my ship fixed first though. So. Just give me five minutes. Pack some snacks, anything else you might need and we’ll go hang out, alright?” 

Brian frowns. “You’re coming back, right?”

“Definitely.” 

“Okay, ‘cause grown-ups like doing that whole just-five-minutes thing then they don’t show up and you realize they were just waiting for you to fall asleep.” He bites on his lower lip to keep it from quivering.  _ Suck it up or you’ll look babyish. Don’t cry in front of him! _

Jae smiles, slips a silver ring off of his middle finger. “Here. You hold onto that as assurance. I’ll be back in five minutes. I just need to get something for my ship.” 

Brian grins, holding the ring in his palm, a little too big in his small palm--it’s cool, heavy.

“My mom gave me that,” Jae says. “So don’t lose it, ya feel?”

Brian nods, his bandana sliding down onto his face, coming to rest on his collar. “I won’t. See you in five.” 

“Right,” Jae says, grinning. With that, he bounds down the stairs, out the front door, toward his ship. He pauses before walking in and turns to glance back up at Brian, who has his nose pressed to the window. Jae waves, grinning his debonair smile before walking into the ship.

 

Brian watches, eyes wide and mouth agape, as the blue box disappears into thin air, the strangest pulsing sound filling the air as the engine starts.  _ Oh my god. He really is a time traveller.  _ His heart flutters in his chest, his stomach doing somersaults from the excitement, the thought of going on an adventure.  _ It’s real! I can get away from here, it’s all real!  _ Brian reaches for the suitcase, packs in all of his favorite clothes: his yellow hoodie, his pink jogging pants, his tribal-print drawstring pajamas, a cap in case it’s cold. He glances at himself in the mirror, gives his best pirates snarl before jumping up and down with glee.  _ Kang Younghyun, Pirate King.  _ With that, he heads back out to the yard, sits down on the swing, this time pushing off with intent, and waits for the raggedy man to come back. 


	2. The Corner of Your Eye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Brian Kang waits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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On any other night, Jae would’ve realized what was wrong immediately: he would’ve noticed that the x-axis on the time-space calibrator was still set to 43.6532° N, 79.3832° W but that the y was out of whack, stuttering like a polaroid in the hands of a five-year-old before finally settling on +14, as they kicked off from Sungjin’s repair shop on Saturn. 

But, well, tonight is an off-night: the TARDIS is irritable, not just for having been left out on the lawn, but because it could smell loose time on Jae--the particles of it hanging off of him, lingering in his hair. Jae can feel it as soon as he walks in from Brian’s front yard: the air is hot, the ambient lighting set to red instead of the usual moonlight lustre he prefers. 

“Okay, wifey--so, it took awhile--but we’re going to go and get you fixed now, alright?”

The TARDIS sends up steam again, turning off the main monitor just to get on Jae’s nerves.

Jae clicks his tongue in annoyance.

“The kid needed help, you  _ know  _ that I can’t just up and leave him there. He was a homie. He wants to be a librarian and you just  _ know _ that there’s something special there--” 

The TARDIS gives a shudder, turns off the time gauge. It knows what Jae means when he says stuff like that, when he takes that tone: he’s found a new companion. Again. And the TARDIS is quite frankly, tired of the heartbreak--or at least of seeing Jae go through it. Everytime, he thinks he’s going to get it right, everytime, something inevitably goes wrong. Their last companion, Jae and the TARDIS had both loved: Kim Wonpil, a ball of sunshine, a pianist who loved to laugh, who had a natural predisposition toward helping others and bringing cheer wherever he went. He’d been displaced in time, touched by a Weeping Angel on their way back home from an adventure in the Odin belt and had been sent back to live in the 1920s--he was safe, that much Jae had deduced from newspaper clippings and information found online, but they could never see each other again. Mostly because Jae read the papers, knew it didn’t, doesn’t, wouldn’t happen. 

The headlines read: Jazz Pianist Kim Wonpil And Engineer Partner Start Firm, Kim Wonpil Adopts Child With Business Partner--Rumors Swirl, Kim Wonpil Gives 20th Anniversary Concert. 

Jae knows they never meet again because Wonpil stays, thrives. 

To go to him again would cause paradox, chaos--because the very definition of being  _ lost  _ in time, the essence of the Weeping Angels, is not to be found. 

There’s no arguing with the nature of the beast.

It took him a rough estimate of fifteen years to get over that: the TARDIS could never quite tell how long things  _ actually  _ took with Jae--time got a bit wibbly-wobbly where that lanky jumble of limbs and his motor-mouth were involved. But she’d done like the Rent song he enjoyed so much and counted in cups of coffee he’d left too close to the dashboard for comfort, in the bottles of whiskey drank by the entrance as they hovered over a supernova: fifteen years’ worth of coffee, of whisky, of star-watching until he smiled into the screen again. 

And now. 

A boy, a kind heart, the love of books and adventure. 

The TARDIS had seen him out on the swing, had felt the curiosity in the air around him, had glimpsed the wonder in his eyes and the warmth of his smile. If Jae let the kid on board, they’d be in for more heartbreak than ever. 

What if they put him in peril? What if something happened to him?

And even if that didn’t happen, the kid would have to grow up, leave. 

Jae is good at hellos, not so much at goodbyes and the TARDIS isn’t going to stand for it. 

“I know what you’re thinking,” Jae says gently, pointing his sonic screwdriver at the main monitor until it lights up again. “And I swear to god, it’s just going to be a one-off thing. The kid’s lonely. He just needs a little nudge in the right direction. I was thinking no further than this galaxy, maybe just show him the rings around Saturn or maybe one of Jupiter’s moons? The view from the cusp of Venus? We just need to let him know that he has to hang on even if life is lonely and even if things seem like they’re never going to get better.”

The TARDIS plays back a clip of Jae on the day that they’d met Wonpil at a gala concert. In the clip, Jae is manic with enthusiasm, still dressed in his tux, regular bowtie swapped in for a sharp, black one. On screen, Jae turns, coat tails whirling behind him as he shows Wonpil the TARDIS for the first time.

_ It’s bigger on the inside!  _

Bright eyes, big smile. 

And then a montage of other companions they’d had and lost--Jisoo with his gentle laugh, Jamie with her sass and quick retorts (the only one, in the TARDIS’s opinion, who’d given Jae’s mouth a run for its money), Sammy who was always cooking and filling the TARDIS with music. 

Jae points his sonic screwdriver at the monitor again until it shows the ship mainframe.

“Low blow even for you, wifey,” Jae says, running a hand through his hair before taking manual control of the ship, overriding the engine control. He glances at the x-axis, plots the course for Sungjin’s shop on Titan. He sighs, knowing that Sungjin as he gets older just gets crankier and more precise, know that he’s been waiting a long time to pick on Jae about the chrono-carburetor. “What’s another lecture, huh?” 

With that, he pulls the main switch and off they go. 

The TARDIS feels a twinge of regret, of guilt but knows it’s only doing the best for Jae. He’s hell-bent on coming back to Toronto, but maybe it wouldn’t hurt to play with the time a little bit. After the repairs are done, the TARDIS decides. It’ll wait until the last possible moment and give Brian Kang just a little more time to move on. Someone as smart, as adventurous as him would definitely be out of that town in say, ten years? Or. Fourteen? Fourteen is a good number, the TARDIS decides. Yes, fourteen years it is.

  
  


Brian sits on the swings until his mother comes home at 09:00 in the morning. Even as she is scolding him for sitting out there all night, even as he is being tucked into bed, being told he can skip school to rest, being given all of the cake that his heart desires later that afternoon, he is still waiting for the man in the blue box with a bright smile. 

He promised. 

Brian falls asleep with the silver ring clutched in his chubby hand.

  
  


The ride back to Toronto is incredibly smooth. Jae hates to admit it, but 1950s Sungjin was definitely right (and boy, did 2003 Sungjin let him know it): changing the chrono-carburetor is everything. He takes a shower, changes into a much cleaner outfit--his favorite for adventures: button-down rolled up at the elbows, suspenders, loose but well-fitting slacks. He’s ready to go on an adventure! To keep his promises! To change the world for the better!!!

The TARDIS doesn’t really have to work too hard to keep him distracted from the y-axis gauge--Jae kind of does it himself. Now, emerging fully-dressed and gushing about his looks in the mirror. Now, making a cup of coffee which he drinks while reading a book. Now, playing the guitar, now, flipping through his index of worlds to try and see where he could take Brian to better inspire him to follow his Librarian dreams. 

He lingers on the greatest library in the universe, thinks about how wonderful it’d be to take the kid there if only it wasn’t riddled with Vashta Nerada, a carnivorous species disguised as shadow. What a waste, all of those books and no one living to peruse through them. Finally, he decides on one of the nebulae on the cusp of the Sundae Dollop galaxy--a galaxy that spiraled northward and ended in a point. This is one of his favorite places to go when he needs to recharge because the lights are wonderful: like the aurora borealis on Earth but ten times more magnificent, everything iridescent violets and blues and greens interspersed with sparkling stars that burn bright against the darkness of space, turning everything electric, incendiary. 

When they land, this time it’s soft and Jae comes running out, excited, eager when he stops short. He looks up at the sky--broad daylight.  _ Oh no. Oh no no no no.  _ He’d meant for it to be just a few minutes but maybe the chrono-carburetor was still warming up. He dashes into the house without a thought, thinking only about finding Brian, about making sure he hasn’t waited too long--maybe he’s at school?--he doesn’t notice the obvious thing hovering at the corner of his eye, doesn’t notice that outside, the swingset is rusted over, doesn’t notice that in the front hall, there are no more family pictures, just an assortment of plaid shirts and leather jackets hanging from the hooks in the foyer. He doesn’t notice that all of the toys are gone and have been replaced with records, books, a pack of cigarettes strewn haphazardly around the place. Doesn’t notice that upstairs, an old AC/DC record is playing on full-blast.

Instead, he makes for the kitchen, remembering the cake, the sweet coffee, the happy kid pretending to be a pirate. 

Slowly Jae peeks into the kitchen--empty. He frowns. Here is the same formica table, but a little less red than he remembers. There are the same pots and pans, the same refrigerator, but changed: a little more worn at the edges, a little bit more faded and scratched.  _ What’s happening?  _

An idea creeps up on him, dread slowly filling his heart as he realizes what might have happened, just what he hopes hasn’t happened.  _ No. No, it can’t be.  _

“Put your hands in the fucking air.” The voice behind him is deep, sonorous. “And turn around  _ slowly. _ ”

Jae puts his hands up, turns carefully and comes to face with a tall, handsome man in a police uniform. His hair is dark under his cap, eyes fox-like and sly, hands clutching a gun. 

“Oh. Hi,” Jae says.

The man’s eyes widen at the sight of him. When he speaks, his voice trembles. “Who the fuck are you and what the hell are you doing in my kitchen?”

“I’m Jae. Some people call me the Doctor. Some people call me Doctor Jae--although that’s not to be confused with Dr. Dre--”

“--did Dr. Gamja pay you to do this? Is this some kind of Bachelor’s Party trick because it isn’t funny and I swear to god I’m going to kill Dowoon if he--”

“--Dr.  _ Gamja _ ? Like a potato?”

The man lets out a laugh. His nose crinkles, cheeks puff up before he straightens his expression out again, straightening his handle on the gun. “--yeah, like a potato. But as I was saying. What are you doing in my kitchen?”

Jae’s eyes widen, his heart starts beating faster, faster. Those eyes, that smile, those cheeks.  _ No. No, it can’t be. _

“Um--well, okay. So I was in my time machine--”

“--only that annoying old shrink, Dowoon, and my parents know about Jae. My parents are dead so that leaves that old fart. Now, did Dowoon get him to do this? Because that’s a fucking cruel joke and a breach of the client confidentiality clause.” 

“Brian?” Jae says softly. “Is that you?” 

“It’s Young K to you, thanks very much.” 

Jae smiles despite himself.  _ Always with the nicknames. _

“Young K, then. I’m afraid it isn’t a prank. I messed up the calibration of my time machi--”

“--shut up.” Brian says, tears welling in his eyes. “Shut up, shut up, shut up.” 

“Did you really become a cop?” 

“Are you an idiot?” Brian lowers his gun, wipes at the tears that sting his eyes. “Look, tell Dowoon or Gamja or whoever sent you that this is fucking nuts and that I’ll pay you myself, but that I’m not speaking to either of them ever again--”

“--right,” Jae says. “See, that’d be a good idea except I have no idea who those people are.”

Brian sighs, exasperated. “You’re a pretty good actor. What’d they give you? My whole damn file? That’s a lot of nuance for a practical joke. Anyway. Just. Go get lost. I had a long day and I’m fucking exhausted.” 

“Did you come from a long shift? Did you arrest someone? What was it for?” Jae wonders what kind of cop Brian is, wonders what kind of man that funny, brave, inquisitive kid turned out to be. He hates the thought of Brian waiting and waiting and waiting--wonders what would’ve happened if he’d made it on time. “How’s the gun policy these days?”

Brian raises an eyebrow. “You’re  _ joking  _ right? Dude what the hell--”

“--not to spoil anything but things get pretty bad after 2016--”

Brian sighs, already turning to walk away. “--I’m a kissogram, you idiot. YoungKiss? I dress up in costumes and people at events pay me for a smooch at my kissing booth, not to brag but I’m pretty famous this side of the city, I mean--”

“--stop it. Stop. Right there. BriBri.” Jae straightens up, finds himself bristling now. “Don’t say another goddamn word.”

Brian freezes at the sound of the old nickname. “ _ What  _ did you call me?”

Jae nods at him, arms on his waist in indignance, not caring about the gun anymore. “Brian Kang, Pirate King. You don’t mean to tell me that you’ve turned in your librarian dreams to become someone who people kiss for money?” Jae feels the anger rising in his voice now.  _ It’s all my fault.  _ “What the  _ fuck _ is up that?”

Brian’s hands fly to his mouth. “Holy shit.”

The one thing he hadn’t told Dr. Gamja  _ or  _ Dowoon: the librarian dream. Of course they knew he’d worked as a librarian for a bit but no one had to know that had actually been his  _ dream _ . It seemed a) stupid and b) tangential. 

“How could you do that? I told you to look at the  _ value  _ of the job--”

“--well when someone gives you life advice and then doesn’t fucking show up for fourteen goddamn years, you tend to do the exact opposite of what he tells you,” Brian says, voice quivering. His eyebrows knit together, lips pushing outward in a pout. “You  _ said  _ five minutes, you idiot!” 

Jae’s hearts lurch with fondness.

_ Fourteen goddamn years.  _

“I’m sorry,” Jae says again, feeling like an idiot. “I’m so sorry, Bri. I’m so, so, so sorry. Let me make it up to you? Let’s go for a ride.” 

Brian raises an eyebrow. “A ride  _ where _ ?”

Jae grins, nods toward the front yard. “I got my TARDIS repaired. All of time and space, baby--although, I’ve got a place in mind.” 

_ Baby. _

Brian’s heart is beating a mile a minute. An old curiosity awakens within him: oh, to see greater things! Oh, to chase adventure! Oh, to get to try out a  _ GODDAMN TIME MACHINE _ ! Avast ye! Raise the masts! Pull up the rigging! 

His stomach does a flip-flop.

One thing he hadn’t fully noticed as a kid: Jae is drop-dead gorgeous with a mischievous smile that lilts slightly to the left, bright eyes behind those spectacles, a tall, lean frame. 

Jae wiggles his eyebrows. “So? You coming, BriBri?”

Brian tries not to smile too wide. “If you’re fucking with me, I’ll call the actual cops on you.” 

  
  


“Holy crap,” Brian says, stepping into the TARDIS. The TARDIS feels itself swoon at the sight, the heft, the scent of him: barrel-chested, broad-shouldered, and more importantly gentle, smart and kind. 

_It backfired. My plan backfired._ _We’re going to end up keeping this one._

Brian’s eyes are wide, unable to reconcile the dome-shaped interior of the ship with its cramped, rectangular exterior. From here, it’s as big as a small house with its control panel in the center, an assortment of bright lights and shiny levers. He lets his gaze linger on the small library up the stairs and off to the side, the velvet sitting chair, the well-stocked bar cart, the electric guitars, the vintage vinyl player. 

“How is this possible? It’s--it’s bigger on the inside--”

“--Time Lord technology,” Jae says, grinning wide. “You take space and compress it, fitting it into time and then digging in the way you would with a scarf into a matchbox if it was possible to mine time inward in a matchbox: tiny on the outside, expansive on the inside.” 

“Time Lord,” Brian repeats. “So that wasn’t just some sort of weird thing you made up. I always thought maybe it was like. A military rank or something but it’s your actual--”

“--species, yes,” Jae nods. “I’ve got two hearts, the whole shebang.” 

“Oh,” Brian says. “Okay. Right. You mentioned your mom was--”

“--human, yes. Which is why I can’t ever seem to leave you crazy people alone.” Jae looks at Brian pointedly, their gazes meeting, lingering just a moment too long. 

Jae tries not to think about it. 

Brian tries not to think about  _ that thing _ he maybe should tell Jae about. Maybe. Maybe later.

Brian watches as Jae tinkers with the controls before hovering beside the gear-shift. Jae turns to Brian. “Ready?” 

“Jae,” Brian says. “I have one favor to ask.”

“Yeah?”

“Get me back home my tomorrow morning, will you? And I mean the correct morning.”  _ One last hurrah, maybe.   _   


“Oh. Yeah sure. Easy-peasy. Why? What’s tomorrow morning?”

If Jae hadn’t been busy toying with the dials to ensure their exact position at the very best part at which to view the lights, he wouldn’t have missed it--again: that vital detail at the corner of his vision. But he does. He’s too preoccupied with getting everything right this time that he misses that small gesture that would’ve otherwise given everything away.

Brian slips a silver band encrusted with a single diamond off of his ring finger and puts it into his pocket. Instead, his hand comes up to touch the ring Jae had left him all those years ago: hanging by a chain around his neck. 

A promise is a promise.

_ I still have time. I’m not promised off yet. _

“Just. I have a thing that’s kind of important. Anyway. Okay. Yes, ready.”

“Alright.” Jae grins, pulls the main lever. “Let’s get it.” 

_ Lezgeddit _ , Brian thinks, chuckling.  _ Lesgetdit.  _

  
  


It’s strange for Brian to think of getting married--it feels surreal, like he isn’t ready. But well, who’s ever a hundred percent ready anyway? It isn’t really something that either of them actively planned for: it just seemed to be the next logical step. 

Dowoon and Brian have been together since grade school--shortly after the Raggedy Man Incident (as they both called it), Dowoon had become Brian’s first friend at school, the only person who would talk to the weird, math-wiz kid who whose love for pirates was only superseded by his love for this imaginary man in a blue box that he sketched into almost any piece of paper he could get his hands on. 

Doctor Jae: Raggedy Man

Doctor Jae & The Crack In The Wall

Doctor Jae & The Chocolate Cake

Everyone else thought he was weird, odd, not-quite-right in the head.

That is, except Dowoon. Dowoon listened to him. Dowoon didn’t think he was crazy. 

Their attraction to one another is sweet, simple: they care about each other, they find each other attractive enough, it’s comfortable. They know all of each other’s quirks: Brian knows when Dowoon is annoyed at something or someone because he stops cracking jokes, shoulders tensing up. Dowoon knows when Brian is on edge from the way that he ignores everything else, takes to saying  _ fuck _ every other word. 

In a way, they’d been each other’s rock over the years. They’ve taken care of each other: Brian helping Dowoon out with school, Dowoon’s family letting Brian stay with them when his parents passed away in a car crash. 

Both of them made the decision to stay in Toronto for college so neither of them would have to move away. Shortly after graduation when Dowoon had gotten his part-time gig interning at an engineering firm, he’d decided to move into Brian’s house which he’d inherited from his parents because it was cheaper for both of them--Dowoon’s parents had moved to Florida to retire by then. And then Dowoon had gotten promoted and then Brian left the library, his kissogram business taking off--they suddenly had more money than they’d had before and didn’t know what to do with it. So. The next logical step seemed to tie the knot. No one really popped the question--they just talked about it, went out to buy rings, set a date, and then sent emails out to their close family and friends. 

As Brian sits in a blue box at the edge of the universe, watching the stars in space through the window, watching Jae smile bright as he steers them on their course, feeling that electricity in his bones that he hasn’t felt in ages, he finds himself wondering about the possibilities. 

_ What if I don’t go back?  _

Mixed feelings: a pang of guilt, a fluttering feeling lingering in Brian’s stomach. The TARDIS comes to a halt, that sound of its engines calming, beginning to hum in stasis. 

Jae picks up a bottle of whiskey, two glasses, and opens the door.

Brian braces himself, cupping his hands to his mouth. “Oh my god are you crazy? We’re going to die. The oxygen!”

Jae laughs. “The TARDIS is going to keep us in its oxygen field. Now are you coming or what?”


	3. All of Time & Space

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Brian and Jae spend a night in the stars--and fourteen years ago, a crack opens in Brian’s wall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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Jae knows the TARDIS knows what he’s thinking even before they arrive--he feels it in the TARDIS’s indignant hum, the way that the doors open slowly, the way that the lights go from lunar to solar as if in subtle warning. But Jae also knows the TARDIS kind of likes Brian: otherwise, there would’ve been a tantrum. Otherwise, there would’ve been more shaking and steaming and refusing to budge. 

He didn’t expect this--whatever it is that he’s feeling in the pit of his stomach. He hasn’t felt it in a very, very long time: not since his marriage back in Gallifrey (it ended during the Time War, his wife was one of those who’d decided to stay). As a rule, he doesn’t like his companions this way, tries to pick people whom he sees as completely platonic. 

Especially if they’re human. 

Jae saw it as a child: his father mourning his mother’s short life and never quite recovering. His father had been The Pilot, had met his mother on a trip to Earth to help save some of the species dying out in Asia. He’d decided to take her with him but she didn’t do well in the Gallifreyan atmosphere--it was too dense, made for breathing in by people whose lungs were powered by two hearts. It made her sickly, weak: one of Jae’s first memories are of bringing her hot soup, pressing a cooling pad to her fevered forehead. She passed away when he was seven and his father had never been the same.

And anyway, Jae’s had his share of loss.

Losing his wife is enough. (She had been The Singer--Jae keeps a recording of her voice in one of his vinyl databases. On it, she’d singing a rendition of Fly Me To The Moon, one of the Earth songs that he’d taught her.)

Losing his planet, his people is enough.

And yet, this fire in his gut. And yet, when he looks Brian in the eye, he can’t help but wonder, can’t help that lick of curiosity: was it perhaps best that they’d met again here, now, that Brian is an adult? Was it chance that brought him to the wrong place--and then the wrong time? How would he feel in his arms? What was a kiss like again? 

Jae hasn’t been touched by anyone in so long--not that he thinks about it very much. 

Brian gasps as he takes in the site before them: highway upon highway of glimmering, electric light--the most vibrant blues and purples and greens, bright yellows that put sunshine to shame, incendiary magentas, iridescent teals. Between them, bright stars burn: here, they’re close enough to see the white fire, the light close enough to witness alive.

Jae sits down by the door frame, cross-legged. “You gotta keep your legs in or you’ll float out. We can dangle later if you want. I’ll get the harnesses out.”

Brian nods before sitting cautiously beside Jae. Their shoulders brush, their knees touch--neither of them move apart. Jae pours them each a bit of whisky, hands Brian one. He holds up his glass. 

“Sorry for being late.” 

Brian smiles, clinks his glass against Jae’s, eyes still wide with wonder at what he’s seeing. “It’s...I mean. It’s not fine, it was hard as hell, but it was worth the wait.” 

“Tell me about your life,” Jae says softly, watching the way that Brian’s profile looks in the glow of the starlight, the bright lanes of color accentuating the curve of his cheek, the shape of his lips as he takes a swig of whiskey. “Kissogram, huh? I mean. Yeah. What’s that like?”

Brian chuckles. “Well. Life. You know. Life is life. I don’t really know what to say about it. After you didn’t show, things were kind of humdrum. I got a bit obsessed with you for a while though. Of course no one would believe me. In hindsight, even  _ I  _ wouldn’t believe me if I told me that I’d seen this guy in a box and he was a time traveler and I fed him cake and we closed a rift in time and space through my wall.”

Jae sighs, takes a sip from his whiskey. “People, amirite?”

“I kept your ring, though,” Brian says, showing him the ring on a chain around his neck. 

Jae grins. “Why didn’t you show them that as proof?”

“What kind of substantial evidence would that be? They’d probably think I’d stolen it in which case I’d have been in super hot water. What’ve  _ you  _ been doing these past fourteen years, huh, Doc?”

“It’s literally only been like, two hours for me. I miscalculated something--I just went to get the ship repaired, and set my course for that night. Five minutes after I left.”

Brian smiles a small smile. “I knew you didn’t abandon me.”

“Far cry from holding me at gunpoint.”

“I thought you were a burglar and then I thought you were someone my--um, my friend sent to play a practical joke on me!”

“I’m glad you ended up having friends, BriBri. What happened to the Librarian dream, by the way?”

Brian shrugs. “I know you said not to think about money, but even if it’s what goes first or whatever at the end of a civilization, we have to operate on the assumption that the world isn’t going to end. I did it for a while, the Librarian thing--a couple of years. But it doesn’t pay the bills. And so I tried the kissogram thing out. I mean. I figured not enough guys were lucky enough to have a partner that didn’t mind that kind of thing--”

Jae feels his heart skip a beat at the word  _ partner.  _ Have? Or  _ had _ ? The curiosity gnaws at Jae’s mind like a squirrel on a stubborn nut.

“--so why not? I signed up and it was a hit! Plus, I really like the dressing up part--always have, always will, I guess. My first costume was as a fireman at this Toronto Fire Awareness Week event. I don’t think I’m very handsome but lots of people seem to think I’m pretty good looking so that’s nice of them. I’ve made a living off it. And it isn’t being a Doctor or an Engineer but it’s not screwing anyone over and it lets me buy all of the records I want, all of the books I want.”

Jae nods. Again--that thing that Brian had loved so much as a child: that thoughtful pause, like he was taking everything you’d said and filing it away for safe-keeping. 

“If you’re happy, I’m happy.” 

Brian turns to smile at him, notices that Jae looks a little wistful, a little bit sad. Brian’s heart aches.  _ Was it something I said? _

He pokes Jae’s cheek, nods toward the nebula of colored lights. “You wanna go out there now?” 

  
  


They tie the ropes around their waists, tethering it to a hook set up by the TARDIS’s main console. The ropes are measured to go only as far as the TARDIS’s oxygen field. They walk over to the door, Jae excited--Brian uneasy as he looks out at the beauty of space: was it really possible to witness something and still live to tell the tale?

“Ready?” Jae asks. 

Brian takes a deep breath.

Jae offers him his hand.

Brian takes it. “Ready.”

Together, they step out of the ship, the loss of gravity making Brian’s stomach do a little flip. They float up, up toward the beautiful lights that swirl together, curve apart. It’s beautiful. Brian’s eyes widen taking it all in.  _ I’m here! I’m actually here!  _

Jae grins, pulls Brian toward him as he moves them further away from the ship. Everything expands before them like a neon quilt fanned out on a mattress of space, glitters thrown upward and then suspended there, light held in a moment. Unconsciously, Brian squeezes Jae’s hand tighter, leans on him a little. Jae feels too warm for comfort. Brian’s heart is pounding.

They turn to glance at each other: Brian looking at Jae, the way that the lights make his smile look even brighter, the way his raggedy man  doesn’t look very raggedy at all--the collar of his shirt flaring out, his hair a sleek brown in the light as it floats around his face in the dark night.  _ Tell him about tomorrow.  _

Jae looking at Brian: a courageous soul, a handsome face, all of the universe reflected in his eyes, the entire world in his smile..  _ Ask him. Ask him to stay.  _

The entire galaxy wide under them, a plethora of colors. 

Instead of speaking, Brian does a little twirl, a little loop-de-loop in the air, taking Jae with him in a kind of odd, weightless waltz. His free hand lands on Jae’s waist.

“Oh.” Jae puts a hand up against Brian’s chest. 

His cheeks are tinged pink. 

Brian peers at him.  _ Or is it just a trick of light? _

“What’re you staring at?”

Brian laughs. “You’re so awkward. I remember thinking you were really cool and in control as a kid.”

“Hey, I’m not The Dancer, okay. Cut me some slack.” Jae pushes his glasses up his nose before pulling Brian closer toward him by the rope around his waist. “I’m trying here.” 

“Jae,” Brian smiles. “I have something to tell y--”

Jae’s impulses get the better of him: the fire building in him for far too long, the impulse of  _ here and now _ , of the  _ present _ calling to him for once.  _ It’s only a kiss.  _ He lifts a hand to cup Brian’s cheek before softly, slowly pressing their lips together. 

An electric kick runs through both of them. Jae is afraid for a moment he might regenerate right then and there, both of his hearts beating like crazy in his chest. Brian wonders if he’s died and gone to heaven. He feels like his skin is on fire, lips a tingle as he loops an arm around Jae’s waist, holding them together just a moment longer, enjoying the way that  _ this  _ feels. They sigh into the kiss, Jae’s lips parting to let Brian in, tongues tentative, tender, warm against each other.

Time frozen.

A moment magnified, expanded, to be remembered forever. 

When they pull away, both of them are breathing hard. 

Jae’s dizzy. “Brian--”

“--Jae--”

They both speak at the same time.

“--will you stay with me? To see all of time and space?”

“--I’m getting married tomorrow.” 

They’re both stunned for a moment, trying to decipher, to process what each of them just said--they’re barely able to when suddenly, there’s a giant booming sound, like the fabric of the universe itself is being shorn apart. The TARDIS shudders, pulling them both in toward it--a panic reflex. Jae reaches for Brian, holds him close, watching in horror as the horizon splits into a horrid crack before their eyes, a bright, golden jagged edge cutting through the bright aurora. Jae winces, the air suddenly thinning, time leaking out through the cracks.

Their eyes meet, wide with panic. 

They’ve seen this before, from the other side--Brian fourteen years ago, Jae only a few hours past: the crack in Brian’s wall.


	4. A Rift In Time & Space

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Brian has to make a choice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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Jae lets out a scream as Brian goes limp in his arms. He watches in horror as gold dust lifts up and off of Brian, sifting out through the crack in the sky.  _ Time. His time.  _

“Bri? Brian!” Jae makes it to the TARDIS, pulling Brian behind him, heaving as the TARDIS’s gravity lends Brian weight. He carries him over to the sitting chair, using his sonic screwdriver to check him for air, for pulse. He’s breathing, his pulse is normal, so at least there’s that. Jae takes a glass of ice-cold water from the fridge, splashes it onto Brian’s face. 

Brian jolts awake, eyes fluttering, his consciousness hazy. “Jae? What happened?”

“The crack in your wall,” Jae says, pulse racing. “It’s opened--here. Now. How are you feeling?” 

“Tired,” Brian says, shaking his head. “It’s strange. I feel like I’m being drained of energy--” 

“--you fainted,” Jae says, continuing to scan Brian. All vital signs normal. “Maybe it was an error in the oxygen field? We need to find out whatever it is that’s causing that tear.”

Brian’s eyebrows furrow. “But--I mean, you and me--the you and me when I was a kid, didn’t we seal that thing off? So that means it isn’t the same thing--it--it can’t be the same thing--”

Jae smiles softly. “Time isn’t solid, you see. It’s this wibbly-wobbly loop-de-loop that often folds in on itself. It’s like when you see a photo of yourself when you’re young. The photograph is old, but it’s the same one, only being viewed by a different you. That’s the same crack but we’re on the other side of it. It’s both just opened and already closed, slicing through time--all the way back to 2003, all the way back to your wall.” 

Brian feels a wave of nausea. “What do we  _ do _ ?” 

“Is there anything else you remember from that night?” Jae asks Brian. “After I left? Maybe even in the days that followed?”

Brian frowns. His head hurts. “I--well. Not much except that you didn’t show up. And then after that, I met Dowoon. And then after that, they started taking me to therapy--”

“--Dowoon,” Jae says carefully.

“My fiance.”

“Ah,” Jae says, nodding. “Right.” 

A deep sadness fills Jae’s hearts as he realizes what it is that’s happening, why it is that the crack had reached out and through Brian’s life as if looking for him, seeking him out. To love and let go, to love and lose to time is a Time Lord’s destiny. 

“Do you know what’s happening?” Brian’s voice is hoarse, his eyelids heavy again, in danger of slipping into a trance. 

“You remember how I told you that the crack was because someone was having a hard time making a choice?” Jae says.

“Mmmm,” Brian mumbles eyes fluttering shut again. 

“I think that might be you, Bri.” 

“Me?” 

“I think you need to decide whether or not you’re getting married in the morning.” 

Jae looks down in horror, to see that Brian has fallen unconscious again. 

He sighs, doing a final scan of Brian’s vitals, ensuring he’s alright before setting the TARDIS’s course back for Toronto. He’s going to have to talk to Dowoon.

  
  


It’s strange. In the dream, Brian knows one thing: this definitely isn’t a dream. Whatever this is, is bound in reality. He sees the worlds splitting off--the crack doing its best to shape two parallel spheres. They sit before him half-formed in the darkness of space. On the right, he sees the life he’s lived so far: him and Dowoon waking up in the morning, Dowoon’s face creased with pillow lines as Brian pulls the sheets over him before getting out of bed, him and Dowoon smoking on the bleachers back in highschool, him and Dowoon moving Dowoon’s things into the house, him and Dowoon watching movies. He looks toward one end, the image still fuzzy and he knows, in that odd way that one knows in dreams, that  _ that _ is the future still just taking shape: he sees the outline of Dowoon in a tuxedo, a smile on his lips as Brian walks toward him. 

He feels a pang of guilt, a deep, sinking sadness.

On the left, he sees himself in his kitchen, holding Jae at gunpoint (one day he’ll tell him it was a water gun)--sees the soft o-shape of Jae’s mouth as he recognizes him, sees the vulnerability, the gentleness with which he approaches him. And then the image shifts and there’s him in the TARDIS, eyes wide with wonder. Another flicker. He sees himself and Jae leaning against each other, watching the nebular lights through the open door. He sees them talking, sees Jae’s eyes as they study his face, sees both of them laughing, shy, soft--and then moving closer, closer until suddenly they’re kissing. Brian finds himself smiling despite himself at the memory of it, that electricity, that tenderness. He tilts his head a little, waits for the image to split but it doesn’t, they hang there suspended, frozen. He frowns, only noticing now a small crack in the left sphere, that small thread of gold refusing to cut off from the right.

A decision half-formed. A decision not-quite-made. 

Brian frowns.  _ Wake up!  _ He tells himself.  _ WAKE UP AND MAKE YOUR CHOICE!  _

  
  


“OH MY FUCKING GOD,” Dowoon says as he looks into the door’s peephole to see Jae carrying an unconscious Brian in his arms. He swings the door open, reaching out to help Jae carry Brian. “Bri--baby--oh no--” 

They bring him over to the sofa where Dowoon lifts Brian’s head and puts a pillow underneath it. He takes one of the magazines and uses it to fan Brian. “--Brian. Baby, can you hear me?”

It takes Dowoon a moment to remember that someone else is in the room with them, that Brian had been  _ carried  _ in by someone. That’s when his gaze slowly drifts toward Jae and his eyes widen, realizing who he is, recognizing him from all of the comics, the pictures that Brian drew when they were kids. Gold-rimmed glasses, floppy dark hair, suspenders, bow tie, loose pants, big, cocky smile. 

“Holy fucking hell.” He drops the magazine on Brian’s face by accident. “Oh my god, sorry baby--” 

He turns to Jae, suddenly afraid, suddenly aware of what all this means.  _ He’s real. _

“--you’re...it’s--” 

“Jae, The Doctor,” Jae says, smiling, holding out his hand. “Pleased to meet you.”

“Yoon Dowoon.” Dowoon, still wide-eyed and wary shakes Jae’s hand. “Oh my god. You’re actually--is that why Brian fainted? Because he finally saw you after all of these years? Oh my god. He’s not dead is he? We’re getting married tomorrow so--” 

“--he’s not dead,” Jae affirms, feeling for Brian’s pulse before gently squeezing his hand, holding it gently. “He’s in suspended animation I think. Caught between two realities. But okay so--did he tell you about the crack in his wall when he was a kid?”

Dowoon nods. “Yeah. He said you guys closed it. Something about a time-space rip thing.”

“Okay. Yeah. Long-story-short. The crack has two sides. It started now, in the present, which is the past’s future and ate its way through Brian’s timeline trying to find me because he needs to make a choice that, well, involves me. And you, actually. A very important choice.” 

Dowoon frowns. “But if you guys closed it in the past, then you should know which choice he made--”

“--well, no,” Jae says carefully. “We just know he  _ made  _ a choice. But we don’t know what that choice is.” 

“Okay,” Dowoon says. “Well. Brian’s pretty decisive but I don’t think anyone can make a choice if they’re asleep. And what’s a choice that’s so important it’ll rip a hole in time?” 

Jae laughs softly. “What’s the thing that people _ always  _ rips holes in the fabric of time for? What starts wars? What do people tear civilizations apart for?”

Dowoon looks at Jae, the situation suddenly clear, suddenly obvious in the way that Jae holds Brian’s hand, the way that his eyebrows are creased with worry. 

“I see,” Dowoon says, sighing. “Love’s a fucking bitch, huh.” 

Jae chuckles despite himself. “I like you, Yoon Dowoon. A worthy opponent. 

Dowoon finds himself grinning. “Well, Doc. What do we do, then?” 

Jae grins. “I thought you’d never ask.” 

Dowoon jumps three feet in the air as the TARDIS materializes in his and Brian’s living room, the engine making a low, constant thrumming sound with a higher-pitched treble playing above it as it pulses into being. 

“What the hell is that?”

“My ship, my time machine, nicknamed Wifey, actual name TARDIS.” 

The door swings open.

Jae gets up, gestures toward the door. “Please, come in.”

Dowoon follows suit, hesitant to leave Brian on the sofa, to step into a blue police box that’s come out of thin air.

“HOLY FUCKING MOSQUITOS,” Dowoon says as they walk into the TARDIS. “It’s--”

“--bigger on the inside,” Jae finishes for him. “I know. Alright, well. Okay, Dowoon. We’re going to do something that might be stupid and might kill us and which will most definitely end in heartbreak for one of us. Are you ready?”

Dowoon shrugs. “Anything for Brian.” 

“Great,” Jae says. “Now help me carry him back in.”

Dowoon frowns. “Why’d you even bring him out of the ship in the first place?”

Jae smiles sheepishly. “I just needed to be a bit dramatic so you’d suspend your disbelief long enough to not call the cops.”

Dowoon blinks. “You’re crazy.”

Jae grins. “I’m a mad man in a box.” 

 

 

If there’s anything that Jae hates, it’s traveling into Dream Space. The thing about Dream Space is that it also operates on Dream Time; it isn’t quite solid: only the possibility of time carved into time itself, but nothing quite  _ there _ yet, not really _.  _ It’s like math to people who do better with words, music to someone tone-deaf, the abstractness of Chemistry to someone who does well with lines and vectors. 

“What the fuck,” Dowoon says, wide-eyed as he looks outside the window. Everything is in golden spheres, hazy images playing in them like videos projected onto inky dark water. “Where the hell is this?” 

“The in between,” Jae says. “You ever half-wake up before? Shake yourself awake only to find yourself paralyzed, unable to move, with strange shapes moving about? A lot of people call it the devil, but really all it is are the things that you could be, might be, might want to become at the moment.” 

“And you’re saying Brian’s here?”

“Brian’s  _ consciousness _ is here. We just need to hone in on it.” Jae peers through the navigator gauges, both of them going crazy, spinning wild like needles on a compass being put through a blender. He tries to get the most steady frequency, enters the figures into the mainframe to try and get the z-component. 

“And how do you plan to do that? There are  _ billions _ of memories here.” 

“He’ll most likely be suspended between two very specific possibilities,” Jae says, finally getting the coefficient. He inputs it into the navigation gauge, pulls a switch. “Well, if my hypothesis is correct. I’m not sure about the other possibility, but see Dream Space can only guess at the future based on the past. My guess is he’ll be thinking about something bright, illuminated--”

“--like a kiss,” Dowoon says softly, eyes wide, stinging with tears as he puts a hand up against the window. 

Jae turns to see that Dowoon is looking out at one of the spheres. Reflected in the inky darkness: the bright lights, the galaxy ablaze, Jae and Brian holding each other close, eyes closed, lips pressed together in a kiss. Jae’s heart lurches for Dowoon, for himself, for Brian. 

“I’m sorry, Dowoon,” Jae says, bowing his head. “It was my fault. He was going to tell me and I got carried away--”

“--it’s okay,” Dowoon says, cutting him off, wiping tears from his cheeks. “Let’s just go get him back.” 

 

 

There are tears streaming down Brian’s face as the future becomes clearer and clearer. 

In Dowoon’s sphere, there they are with a kid--there’s them bringing him home from the adoption center, there’s them dropping him off at school. Dowoon laughing as they pose for a graduation photo with their son, Dowoon helping Brian out with his first cane (bad knees), Dowoon cooking them dinner on their 25th anniversary. Dowoon kissing Brian’s hand as they re-watch You’ve Got Mail for the nth time. Dowoon’s familiar laughter, the warmth of Dowoon’s kisses before they turn the lights out and go to bed. 

In Jae’s sphere, they’re running off together hand-in-hand, crossing different galaxies, different timelines, different depths of different oceans. There’s Jae throwing himself in front of Brian as he’s about to be shot at, pulling out one of his shield gadgets just in time to deflect the bullet. There’s Brian pulling Jae into the threshold of safety just in time, as the enemies wander into the hallway. There’s him and Jae after every life-threatening adventure, holding each other close in the TARDIS, whispering relieved, sweet nothings, exchanging fevered kisses. Jae reading him something from a book. Jae pouring them both whiskey as they decide where to go next. Jae helping Brian up as he gets older and Jae remains the same. Them, dancing to a slow waltz--Brian old and gray, Jae still young and smiling and hopelessly in love. 

How do you choose between two loves?

How do you choose between two lives?

Brian knows it in his gut, but is afraid to make the choice, is afraid to cut the cord, to make one possibility real and consign the other to a parallel world, another life. How could he without being ungrateful? How could he without giving up a little bit of himself?

Behind him, Jae and Dowoon drift out of the TARDIS slow, moving through Dream Time like bodies in water toward him. 

_ Whatever choice he makes, I will love him forever,  _ both of them are thinking. 

_ If you’re happy, I’m happy.  _

Slowly, Brian moves toward the golden rift, the deep thread holding the two possibilities together, tearing his life and time apart. He holds his trembling fingertips to it like he did to the crack in his wall as a child. 

Under it, he hears a soft, voice--a little hoarse, but kind. And another one, smaller than the first time he’d heard it. 

“Hey. Um. This is Pirate King Brian. And I know you’re having a hard time right now. You’re trying to make a decision and I get how that can be difficult. Like tonight, I wasn’t sure if I was going to eat cake or not and because of that I left the fridge open and the cake was getting all melty and sweaty and gross. But in the end, I decided to make up my mind and not eat it and so I shut the fridge and it all worked out because this guy here dropped out of the sky and that way I had something to give him.” 

Brian’s sobs come faster, more rapidly, as he pulls the thread away from Dowoon’s sphere, tying it away, holding it tightly like a tether to his future with Jae. 

“Keep on going, BriBri. You tell ‘em.” 

_ I waited a lifetime for you. _

“So yeah. Just make up your mind. Whatever happens, whatever choice you make, it’s better than not-making it like this. You just need to make sure you can deal with the outcome.”

Before he lets it go, Brian says a silent thank you to Dowoon, a silent apology. 

_ Thank you for loving me. You deserve someone who will love you just as fiercely.  _

With a careful, loving hand, he seals off his future with Dowoon and kisses it softly into another life until it dissipates. He turns to the sphere he’s held onto, watching Jae with the same, admiring eyes he had as a child. 

In the sphere, a picture as clear as day: Brian on a swing as a young boy, toes digging into the earth as he rocks back and forth, and waits for his shooting star.

  
  


Jae reaches into the Dream Space and pulls Brian toward him--Brian, eyes shut tight, figure curled around their future: a bright, burning, golden sphere in his arms. Brian choosing him. Jae is crying, lean frame wracked with emotion, the years of being old and alone and never knowing he wanted anything or anyone more piercing through him like an arrow. 

Dowoon, still teary-eyed, but also full of love and care underneath all of the pain, helps Jae lay Brian’s consciousness back into his sleeping body as they enter the TARDIS. It’s lightweight, almost liquid, but also bright, luminescent. It takes a moment for the two figures to become one again. 

It takes a moment before Brian wakes up, eyes fluttering open.

When he does, Jae smiles softly. “Hey.” 

“Hi,” Brian says, his voice deep, hoarse from slumber. 

Jae nods toward Dowoon. “I think you guys should talk.”

Brian nods, sitting up.

Jae walks toward the library to fix himself a whiskey, giving them privacy. 

“Hey,” Dowoon says, eyes glassy now that Brian’s eyes are on him, now that he knows his choice has been made. 

Tears slide down Brian’s cheeks at the sight of Dowoon: only just that morning, his long-term partner, only just that morning, someone he thought he would be spending his whole life with. 

“Don’t cry,” Dowoon says, laughing. “God. You were always such a cry baby.”

“I don’t ever want you to think that you weren’t appreciated. That all of the time and the effort that you gave us wasn’t enough,” Brian says, sitting up. “You’re my bestfriend, Dowoonie.”” 

“I know that, you idiot,” Dowoon says, grinning. “I was the best long-term boyfriend you could ask for. I saw the spheres, you know--”

“--I’m sorry about the kiss--”

“--I didn’t know kissograms took their work home with them,” Dowoon says, attempting a joke but not quite being able to say it without a hint of bitterness.

“I’m sorry about the kiss,” Brian says again, eyes serious. “It was unfair to you.” 

“It was,” Dowoon assents. “But in a way I understand. I know how long you waited for him. I suppose it’s like seeing the ocean after living in the desert for years.” 

“The desert was beautiful too,” Brian half-whispers. “I loved the desert too.”

“It’s different, though, huh? You know what I thought, watching that thing with you two in it?” 

“What?”

“I hope I find love like that.” Dowoon smiles despite himself. “I really, really hope I find love like that.” 

Brian sighs, leaning in to give Dowoon a hug. “You will. I know you will. We’ll be okay, Dowoonie. We’ll both be okay.” 

“I know,” Dowoon says, sighing into the hug, clapping Brian on the back. “I know.”

As they pull apart, Brian reaches into his pocket and hands Dowoon back his ring. “Give it to the right guy when he comes along.”   
  


 

“I have a request,” Dowoon says as they call Jae back into the main control room. Jae smiles, offers him a glass of whiskey on the rocks, which Dowoon gladly accepts. 

“Name it.” 

“This is a time machine, right?”

“Time machine, space ship--all a matter of perspective.” 

“Okay,” Dowoon says, nodding. “Well. I don’t really want to go back to 2017. I mean--no offense, Brian--but all of Brian’s stuff is there. And the wedding stuff is there. I don’t want to deal with that. Maybe you guys could drop me off somewhere else--or some _ when _ else. I’d like to start again at a simpler time.”

“We can do that, right?” Brian looks at Jae.

Jae nods. “When did you have in mind?” 

Dowoon grins. “The late 20s maybe? I always liked jazz, Fitzgerald, the works.”

Jae nods, typing in the coordinates, waiting for the TARDIS to calibrate before pulling down on the main lever. “Alright. 1928 it is. Let’s get it.” 

Under the console, Brian finds Jae’s pinky, intertwines it with his.

 


	5. Brian’s Choice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Doctor gets his ring back--well, sorta.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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“So,” Brian says as Jae shuts the TARDIS door behind him after they drop Dowoon off in 1928. “What now?” 

Jae grins, stuffing his hands in his pockets, no answers to offer for once in his long life. He walks toward Brian, takes off his policeman cap and sets it down. He ruffles Brian’s soft, dark hair, puts a hand to his cheek. Brian smiles. Jae’s hearts soar.

“You tell me.” 

“Hrrrrm,” Brian says, eyes thoughtful. “Well. I mean, I guess I’m stuck with you now. As unfortunate as that might be--” 

“--excuse  _ you _ , Pirate King,” Jae says, rolling his eyes, smile smug. "You waited a lifetime, if I remember correctly?  


"It's Kang Younghyun, actually. My real name, I mean."

Jae's eyes widen. "That's a powerful thing--"

"--I know--"

"--Park Jaehyung. You made your bed now you're going to have to lie in it. Real names are no joke” 

Brian laughs softly, watching Jae’s handsome face--a little smug, a little hesitant, not sure how to proceed. _He's cute when he gets caught off-guard.  
_

“Oh don’t worry. I intend to lie in it for a really, really long time.” 

Jae blushes. “Ah. You shouldn’t get your hopes up. I’m really bad at that. Or I think I would be. It’s been a while. And I’ve never  _ really _ with a guy except this one time on Vesuvius--”

“--Jesus Jae,” Brian says, laughing softly, pulling Jae toward him by the ends of his coat. “I was  _ kidding. _ There’ll be time for that--I mean, I could always teach you.”

Now, Brian’s blushing too. 

“Jesus, Brian,” Jae laughs softly. 

“Let’s take it slow,” Brian says.

Jae nods, putting his arms around Brian’s neck. 

They kiss slow, soft. 

Jae puts a hand gently on Brian’s nape, gently stroking the soft hair there. His fingertips graze something metal--a delicate chain. “What’s that?”

“Oh,” Brian says, releasing Jae for a moment. “Right.”

Brian undoes the clasp around his neck--holds the it up to the light: the silver chain on which Jae’s silver ring is strung. “It’s about time I give you this back.” 

Jae watches as Brian lets the chain pool in Jae’s palm, the silver from the ring cool, heavy against his palm. Jae smiles, shaking his head a little, thinking about how time and its tides never cease to amaze him. Jae undoes the clasp, parts the chain from the ring. 

“Remember how I told you this was my mom’s?”

“Yeah.” 

“It was the ring my father gave her. On Gallifrey, we don’t have weddings--just marriages. Every ring is quite literally a promise, forged with time stolen from a Time Lord’s life. A promise given can’t be taken back. Even if I hadn’t come back, even if I’d tried to run away, as long as you had this ring, for at least an hour of my life, you would’ve had power over me.” 

Brian blinks, watches in awe as Jae takes the ring and, smiling, slips it onto Brian’s left ring finger. “Jae--”

“-- _ that’s  _ how that ring is worn,” Jae says pointedly before pressing a kiss to Brian’s temple.

It’s Brian’s turn to blush. “Right.” 

“So,” Jae says, turning to face the console, checking the index of galaxies. “Shall we go off and see who needs help today? What galaxy is in peril? Which world is on the cusp of destruction?”

Brian grins, wide. 

“Lezgeddit.”


End file.
